


Like War

by starkforpresident



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 18:21:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkforpresident/pseuds/starkforpresident
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all he has seen and done, Howard Stark struggles to adapt to the life he's created.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like War

Howard sits in his study, slumped low in the chair that rests in front of the fireplace. He stares at the flames as they dance over the dying logs, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath. In his hand is a glass of hard liquor and ice. Occasionally he takes a sip, but the flames have entranced him. He studies them, thinking of how dangerous fire can be. It’s powerful. Like guns, like bombs, like war. Absently he swirls the glass, listening to the ice clink together.

The door to his study opens but he doesn’t bother turning his head. It can only be one person. She walks until she stands before him, dressed in a silk, black robe. Her hair is pinned back, but Howard doesn’t think of how beautiful she is. Instead, he’s irritated that she’s standing in his way. “Howard.” She says, a bit sternly. “You need to stop drinking and come to bed.”

He glances up at her, and then away. When he ignores her and takes a sip from his glass, she moves forward. Her knees brush his as she leans over, hand clasping around his fingers. “Stop.” She says again, a bit more gently this time.

“No.” He responds gruffly, jerking his hand out of her grip. The alcohol sloshes, tipping over the edge of his glass and onto his slacks. He hardly notices, and Maria doesn’t give up. She leans over him again, her hand reaching for the glass, but Howard has had enough. The man evades her and then slams his drink on the end table. His free hand moves quick, snatching her arm and squeezing tight. Too tight. “Woman, I told you. No.”

A soft gasp escapes her. The sound makes Howard glance down, and he realizes that he’s hurting her. He lets go and she stumbles back, holding her arm where bruises of his rough fingers will surely form. Howard stares at her as the silence settles, watching her eyes gloss over and wondering how she’s managed to put up with him. Then he crumples, his exterior cracking so suddenly that it takes them both by surprise. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and holds his face in his hands. Fingers dig into his scalp.

Her fingers wrapping around his wrists startles him. Howard pulls back to see Maria kneeling on the floor in front of him. Tentatively, she brings his hands down from his face to replace them with her own. They look at one another for what seems like a very long time, with Maria running her thumbs over his cheeks. She sucks in a harsh breath, pressing her forehead against his.

“Howard…” she whispers, running her hand through his hair and tracing her soft, untainted hands down the back of his neck. Maria cradles his face and kisses him slow and easy, stealing the warm taste of alcohol from his lips. Then she kisses his cheeks, his jaw, over his brow and his closed eyelids. Her thumbs press into his skin, catching the scarce tears that fall. “Howard…” she says again, and from a few doors down, the baby cries.

Maria closes her eyes, leaning forward against her husband. Howard finally reaches up and brushes a stray dark hair behind her ear. “Go.”

She looks at him, studies his features, and forces herself to pull away. Her hands come up to brush off tears of her own, and she heads for the door. Maria pauses there, hand on the golden knob. She stares down at it, and then slowly tilts her chin to gaze at Howard. The man is back to staring at the fire. “Come with me.” She says quietly, desperately.

At first, she’s not sure he heard her. But then he reaches for the bottle, and it’s the only answer she needs.


End file.
